


Say the Word and We'll Find a Way

by freethedoncastertwo



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, cute cookie-baking Makoto, elf!Kisumi, rated T because Kisumi is a potty-mouthed elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4992991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freethedoncastertwo/pseuds/freethedoncastertwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisumi visits Makoto every Christmas Eve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say the Word and We'll Find a Way

**Author's Note:**

> This happened: I briefly misread a fic title, thought the author was calling Kisumi an elf, and then realised how much I wanted elf!Kisumi.
> 
> The title is from Somewhere in Neverland by All Time Low.

Makoto is ten and he’s keeping a secret from Haru.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Haru – because he does, with every fibre of his being – it’s just that he doesn’t think Kisumi is _his_ secret to tell. Makoto’s parents have told him not to trust strangers, but no one ever really feels like a stranger to Makoto – certainly not the slender, pink-haired boy that slips through his window on Christmas Eve, every year, with a present just for him.

This year it’s a plush giraffe, embroidered with the words, “be proud.” Makoto tears up when he sees it. Some of the kids at school call him a giraffe to make fun of his height, and Makoto tries to pretend that it doesn’t bother him. But it does.

Kisumi looks nervous when he presents it to Makoto. When Makoto starts to cry, he wrings his hands fretfully. “Is it too much?”

Makoto shakes his head. “No. It’s – it’s _perfect_. Thank you.” He launches himself at Kisumi and hugs him tightly, squeezing the giraffe between them. Kisumi laughs and hugs him back.

“You deserve it,” Kisumi whispers. Makoto feels like a tiny crack in his heart heals upon hearing those words.

Kisumi stays for a few hours, ducking out the window when Makoto’s parents come to check on him. Makoto always wishes that he would stay longer.

-

Makoto is eleven and he hates fevers.

He _hates_ them, because his parents come into his bedroom to check on him every thirty minutes. Kisumi arrives and Makoto can only stare at him hazily as the other boy kisses his forehead, murmurs some soothing words that Makoto can’t make out (stupid fever!) and tucks a coin purse in the shape of a turtle under his pillow. Then Makoto’s mother’s footsteps sound out from the staircase, and Kisumi is gone.

After that, Makoto makes sure to take his Vitamin C, eat plenty of vegetables and always stay warm. If he never gets another fever in his life, that would suit him just fine.

-

Makoto is twelve, and Kisumi is _not a baker_.

He’s very careful not to laugh when he takes the burnt cake from Kisumi’s hands. The elf boy looks dishevelled – the twins were playing outside and they’d almost spotted him commando-crawling through the garden. They’d almost spotted him again when he’d shimmied up the wall and tumbled in through the window. They’d almost _heard_ the cry of frustration that he’d let out when he landed on the cake. “It’s squashed,” he said dully.

Makoto nods. “Um... at least it cushioned your fall?”

Kisumi snorts.

Makoto smiles. “Well, thank you. I love it.”

Kisumi gapes at him. “It’s burnt and squashed!”

Makoto shrugs. “I don’t care,” he says blissfully. “If you made it, I love it.”

Makoto proceeds to eat the cake to prove it to him. Kisumi stares at him in disbelief until – after a _lot_ of pleading from Makoto – he tries some.

“Santa’s balls!” he hollers through a mouthful of burnt cake. “This is actually good!”

Makoto gasps, and then dissolves into laughter. He clamps a hand over Kisumi’s mouth. “Sshh, you can’t say that! Mum and Dad will think that _I_ said it!”

Kisumi spits chewed-up cake out into Makoto’s hand. Makoto howls in dismay and drops the mush. It lands on his bed.

Kisumi’s eyes are glistening and his lips are clamped tightly together. Makoto can tell that he’s about five seconds away from bursting into raucous laughter. So Makoto gives the lump of mush a very grave look and shakes his head. “I am defeated.”

Kisumi laughs so hard that he doubles over, eyes streaming. He laughs so hard that he doesn’t notice as Makoto methodically puts revenge crumbs in his hair.

 He doesn’t notice until forty minutes later, when he sits up and the crumbs shower down onto his lap. Makoto collapses into giggles, gasping “I’m sorry!” before Kisumi can even ask.

Kisumi declares that the last innocent person on Earth has been tainted, and it kind of feels true.

-

Makoto is thirteen and he’s keeping another secret.

Haru has been trying to get it out of him for weeks, but Makoto can’t just _say_ it. It’s something that he has to keep locked away, or else it might become real.

But for some reason, when Kisumi climbs through his window at eight p.m. bearing a novel and a wide smile, Makoto lets it spill. “Hey, Mako-chan!” Kisumi greets him, his eyes trailing over the bed where Makoto is curled up. “Merry... Christmas?”

Makoto looks up at him solemnly. “I think my parents might get a divorce.”

The smile disappears from Kisumi’s face. He sits down next to him. “Why do you think that?”

Makoto sniffles. “They’ve been fighting every night recently. Listen.” Kisumi listens and, true to Makoto’s word, he hears the muffled sound of arguing going on downstairs. Makoto hides his face in his pillow. “A-and if they get a divorce then... everything’ll change and... they won’t need me anymore, because I failed them.”

Kisumi hums sadly. He doesn’t really understand Makoto’s line of thinking there, but he knows what to say. “Mako-chan, they’ll always need you. And you haven’t failed them! They’re two adults in a relationship – it’s up to them to make it work. It’s not something that you should take responsibility for.”

Makoto sniffles again, chancing a peek at Kisumi. “Okay.”

Kisumi smiles gently and brushes Makoto’s hair out of his eyes. “Here, I brought you a book.” He presents it to Makoto.

Makoto reads the title. “The Secret Garden.”

Kisumi nods proudly. “I’ve read it! It’s about some kids who find an old garden that almost nobody else knows about. And they fix it up and play in it all the time.”

Makoto gives him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Kisumi grins. “No problem! Anyway, shuffle over. It’s quite chilly tonight.” He clambers into bed beside Makoto and gives him a big, floppy hug. “Let’s read together.”

Makoto opens the first page and begins. Soon they get so lost in the story that they forget about the world outside. Makoto falls asleep like that.

Kisumi carefully closes his book and adjusts his blankets, before stealing away into the night.

-

Makoto is fourteen and it’s the first time he’s ever seen Kisumi cry.

Kisumi is trying to hide it, but he’s shaking so hard that it’s kind of obvious. He stumbles through the window and straight into Makoto. He slips a necklace around Makoto’s neck. The pendant is a small letter _H_. Makoto doesn’t have a clue what it stands for, but he knows not to ask. Kisumi presses his face against Makoto’s shoulder and sobs.

It takes some awkward manoeuvring, but Makoto manages to get them both on the bed. “Sshh,” he says over and over, tangling his fingers through Kisumi’s wavy hair. He strokes it gently, rocking Kisumi back and forth like he does with the twins whenever they have nightmares.

It seems like forever before Kisumi calms down. Eventually he chokes out a sheepish laugh (that still sounds mostly like a sob). “Thanks. You’re good at – taking care of people.”

Makoto blushes at the compliment, but he’s secretly chuffed. He knows he’s good at that – it’s one of the few things he prides himself on. “Well, I like taking care of you,” he responds.

Kisumi’s mouth wavers like he’s going to cry again. He gulps. He can’t face leaving tonight. He just can’t face it. In a small voice he asks, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course,” Makoto replies without a second thought. He’s been wishing Kisumi would stay with him for years.

It’s Makoto’s turn to tuck Kisumi gently into bed and climb in after him. He switches the lamp off and the darkness is oddly comforting. Kisumi cuddles up close, and Makoto revels in just how _right_ it feels. (Not Kisumi’s sadness – never that. Just the fact that he’s still there.)

-

Makoto is fifteen, and Kisumi doesn’t come.

There’s a sick feeling in Makoto’s stomach all night. He knows it’s his fault. He knows, because he kissed Haru in November and he just _knows_ that Kisumi wouldn’t like that. Makoto isn’t sure what he and Kisumi _are_ , exactly. He doesn’t know what he and Haru are, for that matter. But he’s intuitive enough to know how both of them feel about him, and he should have known that this would cause problems.

There’s a terrified voice in his head that’s saying, _‘no, what if he’s hurt? What if something terrible has happened?’_ It’s frightening enough that Makoto goes out to look for Kisumi in the snow, until his exasperated parents call him back inside.

Makoto stays up all night with a torch and an offering of cookies. He even writes a little note and leaves it on the windowsill, where if Kisumi came by, he would see the words, _‘I’m sorry.’_

Dawn comes and Makoto falls asleep with the terrible thought that he’s ruined something rare and sweet and wonderful.

When he wakes up three hours later, the note is gone.

-

Makoto is sixteen. Kisumi is back, and he’s _hot_.

He knows it, too. He’s engaging in a way that Haru never tries to be; flirtatious in a way that no one else could even rival. His violet eyes are dark and hungry. He pounces on Makoto as soon as he gets through the window.

“Hey, Gorgeous.”

Makoto doesn’t think that he’s still upset about last Christmas, but as soon as he sees Kisumi, the disappointment comes rushing back. “Where were you, Kisumi? Why didn’t you visit last year?”

Kisumi giggles in response. Makoto pouts.

“I was worried that you’d never come back.”

Kisumi’s smirk disappears then. “Oh, Makoto. Don’t be sad. I’ll always come back to you.”

And Makoto honestly _can’t_ stay sad when Kisumi is looking at him like that. Kisumi smiles and pounces on him again, pushing him down to the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, pushing a small box into Makoto’s hands.

Makoto looks down. He blushes furiously when he realises it’s a box of condoms. “Merry Christmas, but what the fuck?”

Kisumi throws his head back in a wild laugh. “ _Fuck_. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Makoto is sixteen, and Kisumi is _beautiful_ when he’s entangled with Makoto on his bed. Makoto would be lying if he said he didn’t want this. And Makoto recently got a lock on his bedroom door. He grins at how perfectly _that_ worked out. “Yes. Okay.”

So they have sex. Of course. Makoto is a teenage swim-team captain who just happens to have sex with a Christmas elf. _“My life is not normal!”_ he wants to scream sometimes. But Kisumi’s got this look of concentration on his face and he seems quiet; vulnerable, like he cares about how this goes. So Makoto just kisses him and tells him it feels good.

Much later, once they’ve tired themselves out and are cuddling lazily on his bed, a question that’s been on Makoto’s mind for a long time decides to come out. Makoto props himself up on his elbow and gazes down at Kisumi. He kisses his nose. Kisumi smiles, brushing his fingers up and down Makoto’s chest.

“Where do you go?” he asks quietly. Kisumi freezes. Makoto has _never_ approached this topic before. “Where are you from? Do you have a family? Are there...” He trails off and looks meaningfully at Kisumi’s pointed ears. “Are there others like you?”

Kisumi’s eyes have something swimming in their depths; something that Makoto isn’t sure he understands. “I work for somebody. Somebody important. There are others like me, but not many.” He sighs. “That’s all I can say.”

“You really can’t tell me anything else?”

Kisumi winks playfully. We have _rules_ , Makoto.” After a pause he whispers, “I broke them tonight.”

Makoto takes that in for a moment. Then he blurts out, “I love you.”

He can’t help it. He has so much love in his heart that it feels full to bursting, sometimes. He hides his face against Kisumi’s shoulder, laughing at his own silly romanticism.

Kisumi tickles his ear. “Look at me?”

Makoto looks at him. Kisumi smiles, but in a weird heavy way, like he’s about to announce that he’s running for president or that NASA has found gold on the moon. “I love you, too.”

Makoto smiles so widely that it feels like his face might just float up into the sky, leading the rest of him like a ribbon in the wind. He laughs, which makes Kisumi laugh. They laugh like that for hours. But somehow, when Makoto finally falls asleep, it feels like the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had.

-

Makoto is seventeen. As soon as Kisumi climbs in through his window, he kisses Makoto hard on the lips. “Come to Tokyo with me,” he whispers. “Please. Please.”

“I – _pardon?_ ” Makoto sputters. “Tokyo? What are you talking about?”

Kisumi thrusts a slightly crumpled piece of paper into Makoto’s hands. “I got accepted into a university in Tokyo. Merry Christmas.” Makoto unfolds the piece of paper. Surely enough, it’s a university acceptance letter addressed to _Kisumi Shigino_.

“You what? Can you even _do_ that? I thought you had – like – rules.”

The excitement in Kisumi’s eyes is infectious. “Fuck the rules.”

Makoto sits heavily on his bed. “Okay. We’re ‘fucking the rules’ now. Okay.”

Kisumi picks up on the ‘we’ instantly. “So you’ll do it? You’ll come to Tokyo with me?” He starts jumping around in some sort of manic elf dance.

Makoto runs a hand through his hair. “Well, yes, obviously.” He smiles up at Kisumi. “I got accepted into this university as well.”

Kisumi whoops so loudly that Makoto has to clamp a hand over his lips. _“Sshh,”_ he hisses.

Kisumi wriggles free and buries his face into Makoto’s pillow. He’s chattering so animatedly that Makoto is a little worried. He can make out the words ‘university,’ ‘Makoto,’ ‘human boyfriend,’ ‘free,’ ‘normal,’ and ‘happiest.’

Makoto decides to wrap himself around Kisumi and press kisses to his neck until he calms down. It works. Once Kisumi’s done with his little bout of excitement, Makoto remembers. “Hey. I have a present for _you_ this time.”

Kisumi stares at him with wide eyes. “You do? No one’s ever...” He trails off.

Makoto’s heart falls. If he’d known that Kisumi had never gotten a _present_ , he’d have done this much sooner. He gets up to ruffle around in his drawers.

The present is shabby and poorly sewn. (Makoto had endured a _lot_ of teasing when he’d asked Gou to teach him how to sew, and Gou had informed the entire swim team _and_ most of the students at Samezuka. Nagisa had kind of hit the nail on the head when he’d exclaimed, _“Aww, Mako-chan’s soft.”_ ) But Makoto was determined to give Kisumi a gift from the heart.

He holds the plush toy out to Kisumi. It’s a bird, embroidered with the messy words, _“With love, Makoto.”_

Kisumi takes it and inspects it reverently. “It’s a bird. Um, a kite,” Makoto explains. “I can’t sew very well, so it might be hard to tell.”

Kisumi shakes his head. “It’s perfect,” he breathes. “Thank you, Makoto.”

Kisumi doesn’t let go of his new toy – not when he’s scuffling with Makoto for the toothbrush, not when they get ready for bed, and not when he snuggles up to Makoto as they drift off to sleep.

When Makoto wakes in the morning and Kisumi is gone, he just smiles and hums cheerfully, because he knows that he won’t be gone for long.

-

Makoto is eighteen and it’s Christmas morning. He’s chatting to a nervous Kisumi, who keeps playing with the radio in his car.

“They’re going to love you.”

Kisumi huffs. “I know.”

“My family have been asking about you all year.”

“I know.”

“Haru loves elves.”

“I – _bullshit_.”

Makoto laughs. “Well, he’s friends with Nagisa, which is close enough.” Makoto pulls into a driveway. “Rin even bought you a souvenir from Australia.”

“He’s never met me!”

“He’s just enthusiastic like that.”

They get out of the car and walk up the driveway to Makoto’s parents’ house. The party has already started. Makoto can see his loved ones through the window – his family and friends, some coming from down the road and some from overseas; a random mishmash of people all somehow gathered under his parents’ roof on Christmas morning. They’re structureless, like Makoto feels in the first few strokes of a race, when his heart pumps quickly with the thrill of knowing that he has everything and can do anything.

Kisumi stops walking. Makoto turns around. “What’s the matter?”

Kisumi is looking at the house apprehensively. “I’ve never entered through the front door before.”

Makoto takes his hand. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“It’s just – I’m really a part of your life now.” Kisumi’s smiling a little but his eyes are welling up, like he’s not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Makoto kisses him on the cheek. “So you’ll fit right in.”

Satisfied with that, Kisumi lets Makoto lead him up to the front door. They ring the bell and Makoto’s mother answers. “Oh, boys, you’re finally here!” she gushes. “Merry Christmas! Come in, come in.” She hugs Makoto, then she hugs Kisumi, then she hugs Makoto again.

They’re ushered through into the living room, where everyone is gathered. Haru is there, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Rin. He glances up and exchanges a look with Makoto; something private and meaningful. Then he smiles at Kisumi. Nagisa, Rei and the twins race over, calling out excitedly.

Makoto squeezes Kisumi’s hand. Kisumi squeezes back. “Hi, everyone,” Makoto addresses the room at large. “There’s someone I’d like you all to meet.”

**Author's Note:**

> KISUMI IS THE HAPPIEST ELF. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
